


Carry On Wayward Sons

by DarkmoonSigel



Series: The Notes Played In Between [25]
Category: Doctor Who, Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AND DON'T BE COMPLAINING UP IN MY HOUSE ABOUT WHO I CHOSE TO WRITE ABOUT, BEST BELIEVE, CAUSE LOOK AT ALL THE FUCK I GIVE, Crossover, Dean is having none of Hannibal's shit, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, OH SHIT! I DID A THING!, THIS STORY LIVES BITCHES, Team Free Will, Will Knows, back from the dead, because the author is an idiot baby, hint.....it's zero, set in season 8, super mega crossover, that works on so many different levels, the doctor is having none of Hannibal's shit either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supernatural and Hannibal crossover<br/>The boys find a case in Baltimore, Maryland involving the Chesapeake Ripper. They think it's a demon, but we know what's up.<br/>Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.<br/>Not Beta Read</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta Read  
> I have no idea what I'm going to do with this.  
> THIS STORY HAD BEEN RENAMED.  
> Formally known as 'Team Free WIll', I have changed it to 'Carry On Wayward Sons'

“I found us a case.”

Dean looked up from his tepid diner coffee and the remains of what had been a reasonably good breakfast of eggs and bacon. Basic but then again the place they were eating wasn’t known for their extensive menu or healthy food if Sam’s sad little bowl of oatmeal was anything to go by. Grimacing at the paste his brother was choosing to eat, Dean gave Sam his full attention or as much as he could muster with only two cups of coffee in him. 

“That was quick. Where to?” he grunted, shaking his dry cup at a passing server. It was already beginning to feel like a long damn day and being deprived of free refills was doing nothing to alleviate that hunch. The Winchesters had just completed their latest excursion in the supernatural, a run of the mill salt and burn job in Maine. They had barely broken a sweat over it, and it left Dean feeling restless and bored. A year in Purgatory will do that to a guy though.

“Baltimore.” Sam said. “Get this, there’s a serial killer there.” He avoided what was left of his congealing oatmeal by taking out his laptop, powering it up to do some fact finding. Wifi and lack there of was for other people, the angelic script carved into the modem instantly picking up an internet connection.

“Nice try, but thanks for playing.” Dean grunting into his barren cup to have it echo in a vain attempt to get to the last precious drop, giving his brother a hard look over the chipped rim. What the hell was he thinking? Sam knew better than that. They didn’t hunt humans. “I know you took a breather there for a while, but not our kind of monster. Plus cops and feds will be all over this one.”

“It just might be though. According to the Tattler, all the victims were missing organs.” Sam pointed out, digging into what was passing for breakfast this morning.

“You thinking witch?” Dean groaned inwardly and outwardly. Holy hell, he hated witches. They were so fucking gross with the using of the bodily fluids, usually their own, along with other people‘s parts. 

“Could be but it’s looking more like a demon. All the victims were staged. One guy was found in a church with his tongue cut out and left as a bookmark in the bible he was holding.” Sam grimaced. Demons were sick bastards to begin with but damn, he hated the ones who thought they were funny. “They are calling him the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Good enough for me.” Dean shrugged as he threw some money on the table. It wasn’t looking like he was going to get any more shitty coffee so they might as well hit the road. He was already picking out the highways and byways in his head, aiming for something scenic. They didn’t get out to the East coast much. 

“You’re right though. The FBI, the real FBI, is all over this one.” Sam mumbled, scrolling through the Tattler‘s photo gallery. “We’re going to have to go in through this one sideways.”

“Gotta plan?” Dean asked.

“Even better. I found a guy.” Sam said, focusing in on a picture and its caption. “A psychologist named Hannibal Lecter. He’s been consulting on some of the cases but doesn’t seem like he’s an agent or official part of the investigation. He owns a practice in Baltimore and his website says he is accepting new patients.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve traumatized a medical professional.” Dean smirked, stretching as he got up out of the booth. He grimaced at the amount of popping and lingering soreness. Hunting was rough on a body. “So are we doing this ‘keep away from sharp objects’ crazy or couple’s therapy?”

“Well unless you feel like hugging it out or being admitted to the closest psych ward, I think we should go in as agents, flash our badges, and just ask a few questions. They got so many people in on this, we should be able to just slide in under the radar.” Sam said, putting the laptop away to follow suit. 

“Hope that doc is ready for our seven shades of crazy.”

oOo  
Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham both looked up in surprise from their usual seating arrangement at the two men in ill fitting suits as they entered the room with only a token knock on the door. Hiding his irritation at the interruption of Will’s session, Hannibal rose first to face them.

“I do not know who you are, but you will have to leave.” Hannibal told the men firmly as he memorized their faces. He had just been making some very important headway with Will to be bothered now by a pair of rude idiots. “As you can see, I am in the middle of a session, and I do not believe you have as appointment with me.”

“FBI.” the shorter of the pair said in a bored tone, flashing a badge as his taller partner did the same. “Wrap it up. We have some questions for you about the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“No. No, you’re not.” Will glared openly, taking off his glasses as he studied the supposed agents. Hannibal noted that the empath’s gaze was unusually steady. His gun was already out in his hand and aimed that the intruders, having obviously seen something Hannibal had not. “Not only are those fake badges, but I also happen to be an agent on the Ripper case. I see all your lies. You’re wearing them like a second skin.”

As quick as Will had been with his assessment and arming, the two men were ready for it, their own weapons drawn. Even with a firearm pointed at his head, Hannibal held a mild disgust for those sort of weapons. They were an inelegant method of dispatch. There was no skill in their handling, at least not the kind one needed with a blade or scalpel. 

“Hey fruit loop, calm down.” the rude man said. Hannibal thought it was interesting that he appeared calm and in control, like having a gun pointed at his head was for other people and hardly a concern. Both men were on high alert and tense, but not stressed out. Hannibal knew a warrior when he saw one, and despite their young ages, both these men were battle hardened veterans who looked like they had fought their way through hell and back. 

“Everyone just calm down. We’re just here for some answers.” the taller fake agent soothed, trying to defuse the situation. Hannibal wondered how often that mournful, soft look of his and that gentle tone worked on other people. In the face of it, the doctor arched a brow back in answer, unimpressed. Hannibal was pleased to note that Will was having none of it either. 

“You’re killers. Both of you.” Will strangled out the words, his breathing deepening as it came out in hot fevered puffs. He was connecting with both men at once and it was straining his already overtaxed psyche. “B-but not….people…?”

The men exchanged quick looks, communicating with each other on a complex level that Hannibal re-elevated their relationship from merely partners to close family, brothers. Though he was a field agent with a badge made from smoke and mirrors by Jack Crawford, Will was a trained professional of law enforcement with all the training that came with it. 

That seemed to mean nothing in the face of their opponents, both men moving with a near surreal speed and grace. The rude man disarmed Will easily enough while the other moved to cover him, dropping Will to his knees. All in all, it didn’t surprise Hannibal. Only as a means to an end, Will fought to defend others while resisting his true nature the entire time. Having no such reservations about themselves, these men fought to win, to kill. There was a significant difference. 

For the most part though, the fake agents didn’t seem to overly concerned about him at all. Hannibal mused what to do with this. A room full of predators and every single one of them was ignoring the biggest snake of all, putting their vulnerable backs to him. Will was down and out, but still annoyingly conscious though, so Hannibal refrained himself from taking any risky action just yet.

“What are you?!” the rude man demanded, sounding more irritated than angry. Hannibal could tell that if he thought Will posed any real threat, he wouldn’t hesitate in ending his existence. Of course, that was unacceptable. Will was too precious to be so carelessly removed from Hannibal’s life by some random thug, so the doctor felt it was time to step in.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Graham is a empath, and a very unique one at that. He has the ability to take on the personification of any person he comes in contact with at great personal expense to his mental health. He is a special agent for the FBI who specializes in serial killers.” Hannibal supplied, keeping his tone calm and clinical. “If you harm him, it will draw a great deal of attention to yourself which I do not think you desire. I am not sure what you think he is, but I assure you, for the most part he is least dangerous person in this room.” 

“Thanks for the Cliff notes, but doesn’t answer my question.” the man growled through his teeth, putting away one of his guns to rummage around in his coat pocket while the other man covered him. Finding a flask, he uncapped it with his teeth much to Hannibal’s distaste, flicking some of its contents onto Will who flinched though Hannibal thought it was more from both men staring down at him intently as if waiting for some sort of reaction. When nothing happened, they relaxed marginally.

“What did you expect to happen?” Hannibal asked, genuinely curious. To his dismay, he was subjected to the same treatment as the rude man turned to fling some of the flask‘s contents onto his face. Tapping down an overwhelming urge to maim and kill, Hannibal made of show of pulling out his handkerchief, patting at the liquid that was dripping off of his nose and cheekbones down onto his suit. “This suit cost more than I dare say both of yours put together and then some. Please refrain from ruining it.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist there, sunshine.” the rude man rolled his eyes. Hannibal decided he would do a seasoned salt rub for him with a hardy mustard sauce. 

“It’s only holy water.” the taller of the two said in way of apology. If that answer to the unasked question had not been so unusual and interesting, Hannibal might have continued creating his future menu. 

“I believe it would be beneficial for everyone if we all took a moment to introduce ourselves and clarify this situation.” Hannibal said thoughtfully, the men being elevated from dinner to interesting, but just barely. He could always kill them later. The two exchanged looks again, the rude one taking the lead. 

“I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam. We are looking for something that’s killing people.” the rude man stated, nodding his head over to his kin, but kept his gun up and trained on them.

“I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and you have already met Special Agent Will Graham.” Hannibal nodded. “I find it interesting though that you say ‘something’ and not ‘someone’. Who, or better yet, ‘what’ are you hunting?”

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.” Dean snorted. “So here is what is going to happen. We’re gonna ask some questions and you’re going to answer them.”

oOo  
TBC?  
maybe?


	2. Yup, there's more.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Team Free Will talking with Hannigram. Oh and a blue box suddenly shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! HEY YOU! YEAH YOU! I'M TALKING TO YOU, SAD SACK!  
> Take a hot second and tell me which Doctor/companion you want in the next chapter. You can only bitch at me about it if you took the time to vote. If I don't pick your doctor or your doctor doesn't win by voting, let's be all sweet Whovians about this. That goes for you too, SPN. Rudeness will not be tolerated so fight nice.  
> ...  
> ...  
> Or the Fannibals will eat you. Tee hee.

“I would….Believe you…”

Everyone in Hannibal’s office turned to look at Will, who flinched in response from all the sudden attention. 

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said.” Will offered as he got up from the floor, brushing his pants off so that he wouldn’t have to look up at anyone while he talked. Something warned him about wanting to delve too deeply in these stranger’s minds. 

“Well don’t sugarcoat it. Tell me how you really feel.” Dean chuckled darkly, tucking the special agent’s gun into his belt for safe keeping. The guy seemed too damn twitchy for his liking to be handling a firearm. 

“It’s obvious that you’re not agents. So what are you? Explain your design. Make us understand.” Will insisted in a calm tone, his mind already running the gambit for answers that were not forthcoming. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, these men were predators, but not the normal kind that Will usually encountered. This pair of brothers could be very bad men and were definitely killers, capable of great and terrible deeds, but they were not evil. Will could read in their skin and on their faces that they killed on a regular basis, but not indiscriminately. There was a purpose there, a calling that was nearly devout in nature. What these men did for a living was right. Not normal by any means of the word but right…..just even. 

“Ok, here it goes.” Dean rolled his eyes. He really hated this next part. “My brother and I are hunters. We help people and save lives by finding supernatural things, and then killing those supernatural things. It‘s kinda the family business.”

“When you say supernatural….” Hannibal trailed off, trying to find the right words for the concept as unlikely as it seemed.

“Mostly ghosts, some creatures.” Sam expanded on the subject for him. “Actually a lot of creatures lately.”

“Oh, demons and angels too.” Dean added. “You know, everyday stuff.”

“Demons…….and angels?” Will questioned while Hannibal snorted in disbelief.

“What’s a matter, doc? Don’t believe in angels?” Dean grinned crookedly. Holy hell, he loved a disbeliever. This guy‘s world was about to get rocked.

“Hardly. I’m an atheist.” Hannibal stated loftily to have the brothers Winchester grin back at him like cats on crack.

“That’s nice. Good on you.” Sam chuckled, turning to Dean. “Hey Dean. you want to call Castiel or should I?”

“Why bring him in on this?” Dean grimaced, losing all his humor at the angel‘s name. Castiel hadn’t seemed right since Purgatory. He could feel something was off about him, but just couldn’t put his finger on it or know how to ask.

“We could use the assist tracking this demon down, and it might help convince the good doctor here that we shouldn’t be fitted for straight jackets.” Sam shrugged. That and he liked having Castiel around. Dean acted more human around him and less like the shadows were ready to gut him. As per usual, Dean wasn’t talking about his stint in Purgatory, but from what Sam could tell, it had been bad. The kind of bad that was even worse than their usual sort. 

“I thought you had inquiries about the Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal pointed out, wanting to get back on more solid ground to build some speaking points with these men. They were definitely interesting. Even more so they were dangerous, having the potential of providing hours of entertainment before Hannibal dispatched them. Or had them imprisoned. Whatever suited his purposed better.

“We do. We think he’s a demon.” Dean said bluntly as he kept an eye on the other man’s reaction. Something about this Lecter guy was making every alarm in Dean’s head go off, and he didn’t like it. 

“A demon?” Hannibal questioned back flatly. Small wonder he hadn’t been caught yet with people like this hunting him down. He wasn’t sure if he should feel flattered or depressed by the absurdity. 

“Yeah, I know how it sounds.” Dean sighed. “If you could answer our questions, we’ll be out of your….”

“He’s not.” Will interrupted, starting to stare off into the distance as he slipped into that mindscape of his where the Chesapeake Ripper lived and poisoned him slowly from within. “A demon. He just a man. A very talented killer, but just a man. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“How are you so sure about that?” Sam asked, wondering if this Special Agent Graham was a psychic or something else. They might end up having to test him too if he got any weirder. 

“I can see him in my mind. I know him almost as well as I know myself…..I just can’t see his face. I can tell you right now that he’s not what you are looking for.” Will said, pulling up his nightmare to stare straight at it. The ravenstag stared back at him with cold intense eyes, too cruel and human to be mistaken for an animal.

“Have you ever met a demon?” Sam said, deciding that they were definitely breaking out the salt and silver as he got out his flask of holy water.

Will sputtered as he was jerked out of his head, water hitting him square in the face. “No. Plenty of devils though.” he said sourly as he wiped himself off the best he could with his hands. 

“No offense but I’m gonna want a second opinion on that.” Dean snorted, glad that Sam had doused Will. That guy definitely wasn’t right in his melon. 

“What are you doing?” Hannibal asked as he watched Dean go still and squint up his eyes in a look of concentration. 

“What? Praying. Shut up.” Dean snapped, hoping that his angel would answer. Castiel’s response time had been patchy of late. 

“To whom?” Hannibal sighed who was trying to decide what part of this day was more ridiculous so far. Will’s session had started out with so much potential…

“Pay attention and try to keep up. To a frigging angel. Now shut the hell up. I need to concentrate.” Dean growled, opening his eyes wide enough to glare at Hannibal for a moment. “Castiel. Come on, Cas. We need you. Gotta a demon down here we want your help with, so shake your tail feathers and come on in.”

“How long has your brother been under the delusion that he can speak with angels?” Hannibal asked Sam who seemed to be the more reasonable one of the pair.

“Ever since one dragged him out of Hell. The same one angel expressed me too out of there, but Dean has better luck contacting him.” Sam grinned back. He loved it when he could be honest with people. 

“As I have explained before, Dean and I share a profound bond.” were the words that startled Hannibal and Will, who both stared at the being who had abruptly joined them, appearing out of thin air to stand right beside Dean. 

“See? Told you.” Sam sighed, shaking his shaggy head. 

“Cas, we’ve talked about this. About not mentioning the ’P’ word in front of other people, along with maintaining personal space and staring.” Dean grumbled, though he made no move to put any distance between them. “You wanna introduce yourself. Doctor Lecter here is an atheist.”

“How unfortunate. You will find this next part unpleasant then.” the dark haired man with the sad blue eyes said gravely. “I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.” 

“You are quite mundane for a celestial being.” Hannibal said dryly, looking over the angel with a speculative gaze. 

“Viewing my true form would burn out your eyes.” Castiel informed him, dismissing Hannibal entirely to move on to Will. 

“How convenient.” Hannibal pointed out. He was still put off by Castiel’s sudden appearance. He could figure out how the man had accomplished such a feat without his notice.

“Not really. It’s why I have to wear this vessel.” Castiel said absently as he got way too close to Will who began to fidget under the intense examination. 

“That must be uncomfortable.” Hannibal said, his tone telling everyone clearly that he didn’t believe Castiel in the slightest, but was trying to keep the situation calm by playing along. 

“That is an understatement. Folding something the size of skyscraper into a bag of meat and keeping it there can be trying and test one’s restraint.” Castiel said, more intent on studying Will’s head than answering.

“Cas! Focus, man. He’s getting on shrinky dink on you.” Dean warned, wondering what the hell the angel was doing as he grabbed Will’s face to peer intently into his eyes. The special agent struggled to get away, but Dean knew from experience that the man had a better chance of getting out from under a mountain. “Quit dicking around with him and ….”

“What an regrettable gift that you have been given, Will Graham, though the encephalitis isn’t helping either.” Castiel observed in the careless manner of angels, making Will go still under his immoveable grip. 

“What?! What the hell did you just do to me?!” Will wanted to get as far as he could from this Castiel guy, but then something tingly and warm rushed through his body like a wave of fever but not. His body cooled down in an instant as the constant headache he’d had since Jack pulled him from his classroom began to fade away into nothingness. Will hadn’t realized just how much pain he had been in until it wasn’t there anymore, the man sagging forward into Castiel’s arm, feeling hollow without it. 

“Damn it, Cas! What did you do to him?!” Dean snapped as they all watched Castiel easily pick up Will to lay out the man on the doctor’s couch. Hannibal strode over quickly to join them, taking Will’s vitals as he asked general medical questions of Will who answered in nods and shakes of head.

“I cured the disease he was suffering from.” Castiel answered with furrowed brow at the hunter, the angel feeling like he was unnecessarily stating the obvious. Human seemed to need constant recapping for events, even ones they witnessed for themselves. He had never understood the reason why though. 

“You should start feeling better now, at least physically. I only cured the ailment. I can not relieve you of your empathy though. It’s woven into your soul. Any attempt on my part to remove it would kill you.” Castiel told Will. “I believe it to be of celestial origin.”

“That’s alright. I’m used to it.” Will muttered, making himself sit up and found that he could. He didn’t feel dizzy, weak, or shaky like he would have before trying to attempt the same motion. 

“So what? This guy’s part angel?” Dean asked, not liking the sound of that. He hated it when things got complicated. ‘Celestial origin’ had ’monkey shit show’ written all over it in red permanent marker.

“I find that to be highly improbable.” Hannibal stated stiffly as he inwardly seethed. Whatever this man…angel…whatever had done, Will was cured of his encephalitis. The empath’s scent was clean of the delightful fever that had been making his brain do so many interesting things. 

“It has been extensively diluted, but yes, there was a nephilim bred somewhere into his line of ancestors. The residual grace from that being has been twisted and rewritten so many times in the genetic coding that it is hardly worth mentioning though. This man’s gift of pure empathy is the byproduct of what’s left of it.” Castiel shrugged, the angel proud he had remembered to incorporate the human gesture into his speech. He was slightly irked no one seemed to notice.

At that point, The conversation came to an abrupt halt, the confines of Hannibal’s office filled with a bizarre whining moan from a machine of some sort. It was high pitched yet held a bass to it that thrummed through everyone’s bones. 

Something was coming.

Just right before the noise came to the point of deafening, it stopped just as suddenly as it occurred. In its place, a blue box resolved itself in the corner of the office by the ladder. Hannibal stared in disbelief, wondering briefly if madness was contagious, because things seemed to keep appearing out of thin air. It was almost comforting to know that other people could see the blue box too, and that the hunters didn’t look especially happy about it either.

“Oh fuck.” Dean summed up the brother’s feelings on the matter nicely.

Monkey shit show? Nope, Dean wished though. The situation was now officially upgraded to DefCon 1, all hands on deck, smoke them if you got them, with a healthy dash of ‘put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye‘.

“Hope you all got your running shoes on, cause we’re going to be doing a lot of that.”

OoOoO

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Your comments start running from the blue box cause they're aliens in disguise bent on world domination. Your kudos hide their faces when you look at them so don't blink.


	3. short and sweet like me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Donna, and Jack all show up to play in mega crossover.   
> Not beta read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more  
> not beta read

“This is most definitely not a beach. How do you keep mucking this up? All I want to see is white sand and…..”

Donna Noble took in the sight of five strange men staring back at her and the Doctor, their audience ranging from smoldering hot to down right damn pretty. “…But I can make do.” she leered, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she quickly straightened her clothing. “Introduce me.”

“I don’t understand. We should be on Risa up to our necks in beaches and sunshine….well ‘ello. What do we have here?” the Doctor put on his glasses to peer intently at the stunned group of men. “Is that Dean and Sam Winchester!? I haven’t seen you two since…Well, c’mon on boys, help me out here. Which face was I wearing when I saw you last, or if it was even this me. Could have been the other me…or the other other me. You know it can get jumbled up.”

“It was the other you with the ears and the leather coat. Looking classy there though, Doc. Like the new face.” Dean snorted. He hated time travel with a passion. It always gave him a headache and his experiences with it weren‘t all that great.

“A-HEM!” Donna prompted, noisily clearing her throat as she elbowed the Doctor in the side with a sharp elbow to remind him that she was here and had no idea who these people were, but would very much like to meet them.

“Oh sorry. Everyone this is Donna Noble.” the Doctor introduced belated under protest of sore ribs, rubbing his side. “Donna, these are the brothers Winchester. The tall one is Sam and the pretty one is Dean. And is that Castiel? Oh you are going to love this. Castiel is a real, honest-to-goodness angel.”

“I can tell.” Donna smirked to receive a confused look from Castiel and that look from the Doctor, the one that said he was being regrettably serious and the universe was a very unfair place. “Oh my god, a bloody real angel?! An actual angel with wings, halo, the whole lot?"

"My true form has wings of some variation, though my halo is not what you think it is." Castiel said stiltedly, unsure about the woman's excitement in such matters. "It's quite large and..."

'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit bragging. Any variation is eye melting fun." Dean muttered.

“And this is…..oh dear….” the Doctor grimaced, his eyes growing wide with realizations as they landed upon the profiler and his doctor.

“You know who I am?” Lecter arched a narrow brow at the strange man with his even stranger, inexplicable contraption that were so out of place in his office. He didn’t know how the large blue box had managed to appear out of thin air or why, but at the very least, it was interesting. Hannibal loved to be entertained. 

“Yes. Yes, I do,” the Doctor said, his tone of voice setting everyone in the room suddenly on edge. There was a danger there within the rapier thin man in the suit, something powerful and undefined. He didn‘t need a weapon in hand to be dangerous. He just was. “Let me just say it is a very good thing for you that your existence is a fixed point in the space time continuum or else I would end you right here and now. Which means I am terrible sorry to say that you must be Will Graham.” 

“Hello?” Will answered cautiously. He was thinking clearly in what felt like the first time in months, and he didn‘t like the clarity. It was sharp as the ravenstag’s horns, the beast standing behind Hannibal clear as day to him yet no one else in the room. 

“You look rather good for being in the advanced stages of encephalitis.” the Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he took a closer look at Will who flinched back. Everything aspect of his empathy was telling him that he did not want to blipping on this man’s radar.

“How does everyone know about this expect for me?!” Will snapped, moving to put Hannibal between himself and this bizarre person. Everyone in this room felt unsafe to him. Hannibal was at least familiar. 

“Cas took care of that for him already.” Dean informed the Doctor.

“What?!” The Doctor squawked whirling around to stare Dean and Castiel down.

“Yeah. Right before you showed up. What’s the big deal? Dude got healed.” Dean shrugged.

“Something tells me that’s bad.” Sam said carefully, getting that old feeling. His instincts were pretty good in these matters. Life had fucked him over enough for it to feel familiar. “Are we talking cosmic big bang bad or breaking reality bad here?”

“Will Graham being cured explains why we aren’t on Risa right now. Even an Angel of Thursday shouldn’t have been able to do that.” the Doctor started to pace the length of the room, agitated with his hands flapping about. “This meeting shouldn’t have even been possible.”

“What?! Why?!” Dean was getting the same bad feeling.

“Why would that be detrimental to anyone, much less the continuity of our existence?” Hannibal asked. His curiosity had been peeked, and wasn’t that a terrible thing for other people.

“Time is too complicated to explain all in one go, but most of it is flexible and mushy up to a point. There are little hard bits floating about it that need to stay as they are, where they are. Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are two of those bits.” the Doctor shot back, answering more out of habit than anything. 

“That makes no sense as per usual.” Donna rolled her eyes. She ignored the jittery feeling that was running under her skin, at least tried to. It almost felt like something was on her back, clinging there. 

“How are either of us that important?” Will interjected. He felt like his life was getting far beyond his control, and not even in the normal sense he was used to. Losing his mind was one thing, losing his reality was another.

“In all the lives I’ve lived, after all the centuries I’ve spent traveling and all the thousands of worlds and the places I’ve visited, you know I’ve never met a single person who wasn’t important before.” Doctor said as he popped out his sonic screwdriver to start scanning the room and other things unseen. “Something is very wrong here.” the Doctor glared at the readings he was getting.

“What?” said a lot of concerned people and people pretending to be human all at once.

“Have no idea but I’m aiming to find out. Well come along now. Things to do and places to go.” the Doctor started to shoo all into the Tardis, earning him a look from Hannibal, confusion from Will, and distress from the shorter Winchester. Sam only sighed. Castiel was already in the Tardis. He was close friends with the big blue box.

“I’m not going in that thing again. It’s unnatural.” Dean stalled out at the door, bracing on the framework like cat heading to a bath.

“Dean, quit being ridiculous. The Tardis is perfectly safe.” the Doctor admonished, ducking under Dean’s arms before grabbing the hunter by his ear.

“That what you said last time and it crashed!” Dean yelled, wincing as he was dragged further into the perceived deathtrap.

“We all survived so I really don’t know what you’re complaining about.” the Doctor said, letting the hunter go as the doors closed behind them. The Time Lord always loved observing new guests of the Tardis. Will Graham did not disappoint though Hannibal Lecter was keeping his astonishment well hidden behind his mask of flesh and bone. 

“Don’t you worry about a thing, love. I’ll hold you hand and anything else you’d like.” Donna smirked as she cozied up with Dean, half walking, half dragging him through the Tardis. She could be very persuasive when she wanted to be, but then so could other people. A door opened open and trouble walked through it with a wide smile on his face and sparkling blue eyes, that bright gaze locking on Hannibal of all people. 

“Well, hello…” Jack purred. Hannibal gave the handsome man a very unimpressed look.

“Jack. NO.” the Doctor had the look of a man who was about to smack a naughty puppy’s nose with a rolled up newspaper.

“But…” Jack pouted before turning to wink at Will who glared back at him. Hannibal hid a smile as he watched Will place himself in front of him. 

“NO.” the Doctor reiterated, pointing a very sharp finger in Jack’s face.

“I can’t say hello?” Jack tired for innocent and failed miserably at it.

“You could if it stopped there. Doctor Lecter might find your form of greeting rude though.” the Doctor warned, going to console to persuade the coordinates into it. Something the Tardis had to be convinced that certain destinations were good ideas. 

“Oh a doctor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up, looking pleased about all his possibilities.

“He’s a cannibal.” the Doctor shared in that odd hand manner that made Donna want to hit him. The statement was met with most everyone’s surprise who turned to stare at the good doctor who looked levelly back at them. Will’s expression was the most tragic of the lot. Some truths are taken better than others, but all are bitter. 

“So no blowjobs then.” Jack shrugged to be met with various looks of astonished disbelief. “What? I’ve worked with worse, and with cheekbones like that, I might be willing to risk it.”

OoOoO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Your comments get laid cause Jack happens. Your kudos deal with issues alongside Will who is not having a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Castiel stares into your kudos' souls with the bluest eyes that ever blued. Hannibal eats your comments' livers cause cannibals are like honey badgers. They don't give a flying fuck.


End file.
